


The Thanks You Deserve

by salainen



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-07
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-12 04:27:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2095740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salainen/pseuds/salainen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Engie can't let anyone's problems pass him by, Spy is his reluctant assistant, and the rest of the team really needs them to keep them in line.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“I'll raise you,” Engie says, watching Spy look at his cards in consternation.

Spy lays his hand down. “I fold.”

“You know, for a secret agent you've got the worst poker face I've ever seen.”

Spy opens his mouth to argue, but the two of them are interrupted by Pyro's arrival.

“Rrngie, Rrngie,” they say, running up to the table. “Scrrt! Hrr, hrr, hrr --”

“Woah, slow down, partner. What's going on with Scout?”

Pyro flaps their hands in frustration. “Scrrt trrk Brrllrrnicrrn!”

Engie sighs. “I don't know how many times I've told that boy to leave Pyro's things well enough alone.”

“And I don't know how many times I have told _you_ that Scout never changes,” Spy says.

“Can you go talk to him? I've got Pyro.” He does, indeed, have Pyro. After explaining their predicament, they grabbed Engie into a particularly crushing hug with no indication that they'll be letting go any time soon.

Spy rolls his eyes and huffs as he gets up, but he goes anyway. Engineer gives him a grateful smile.

“Scout?” he asks, knocking gently on his door. “Scout.”

“What do you want?” he asks, not opening the door.

“I want a glass of scotch and for us to not have to have this discussion, but apparently it was necessary.”

“What discussion?”

“I think you know.”

There's a long silence. “It's about the unicorn, ain't it.”

“Yes. Pyro is very upset and I would like to get back to my poker game.”

Scout doesn't miss a beat. “They're hogging Engie, huh.”

“Yes.”

Scout opens the door, letting Spy step inside.

“Hand over the balloon,” he says, hand outstretched. Scout grumbles a bit, but takes the Balloonicorn out from where he's stashed it and gives it to Spy. “Now, do we have to have the talk?”

“We don't need to have the talk, my ma gave me the talk when I was like, fourteen.”

“Not that talk, you idiot. The one about why taking Pyro's things is wrong.”

“Oh. It wasn't like that, man! I wasn't taking it just to be a dick or nothing.”

“Then explain,” Spy says, taking a careful seat on the edge of Scout's bed and gesturing for him to do the same.

Scout sits. “Okay, we were playing checkers earlier and Pyro was all like 'I bet I'll beat you' and I was like 'No way' and then they said that if I won they'd bet their balloon and I said I'd put up all my baseball cards. Point is, I won, so the balloon is mine.”

“Scout,” Spy says, pinching the bridge of his nose, “what have we told you about making bets with Pyro?”

“Don't do it.”

“ _Exactement._ Would you have actually given up all of your cards if you had lost?” Spy doesn't really understand Scout's attachment to his collection, but he does know that Scout is inordinately proud and protective of it.

Scout hesitates.

“Well?”

“No,” he admits.

“Then you know the bet does not stand. _Merci_ for this,” Spy says, standing up. “I will take this back to Pyro, and then we'll have to have _that_ talk. See you at dinner.”

When he returns to the common area, it appears as though Engie has managed to distract Pyro, though he's used the deck of cards to do so and thus their poker game is lost.

“Brrllrrnicrrn!” they exclaim, taking it from Spy and hugging it tightly.

“How'd your talk with Scout go?” Engie asks, watching.

“It turns out these two have been making ill-considered wagers with each other again.”

“Aw, not again. Pyro, what have we told you about making bets you ain't going to keep?”

“Rrt's rrde,” they say, ceasing their celebration and looking down.

“Right. If you don't want Scout taking your stuff, don't bet it with him. Next time Spy might not be nice enough to get it back for you.” Pyro's head snaps up in alarm. “Now say 'thank you' and let us get back to our game, all right?”

“Thrrnks, Sprr,” Pyro says, hugging him too. There's a soft squeaking noise from the balloon.

“Those two are a real handful,” Engie says, watching Pyro frolic with their inflatable buddy as Spy shuffles and deals the cards for a new hand of poker.

“Indeed. I can't believe I keep letting myself get involved.”

“Well,” Engie says, “I think it's part of the job, really. Making sure everyone's happy and fighting properly.”

Spy snorts. “That's what you tell yourself, labourer. The truth is that you just cannot let anyone's troubles pass you by.”

“I don't hear you complaining when they're your troubles, partner.”

He sniffs. “That is because they are usually your troubles too and solving my problems is in your best interest.”

“So you're just looking out for me, then,” Engineer says, grinning. 

“Yes, well, someone has to. You would run yourself into the ground if not for my assistance.”

“Now who can't let somebody else's problems pass them by?” he asks, teasing.

Spy turns bright red, choosing that moment to hide behind his cards.


	2. Chapter 2

“Bloody hell, this base is freezing,” Sniper complains, rolled into a ball on the couch, shivering. He always gets like this when they move to the mountain bases; he's the only one on the team who didn't grow up facing snowy winters and considers anything below eighty “cold”.

Spy throws a sweater at his head. “Perhaps if you dressed for the weather you would not be so cold, hm?”

Sniper grumbles from beneath the sweater.

“Put it on,” Engineer says, passing through to the kitchen. “Sol and Demo are already sick, we don't need you joining them.”

“You're worse than my mum,” he says, but he sits up, takes his hat off, and pulls on the sweater.

“Better?” asks Spy, looking smug.

Sniper makes a non-committal noise, but he shivers less from then on. Spy follows Engineer into the kitchen, where it turns out he's making a pot of soup.

“And how are our patients?” he asks, sidling up to Engie.

“Ah, they're fine. I mean, aside from the fact that I've had to requisition more kleenex than a hospital for those two and Demo's drinking the cough syrup straight out of the bottle, they're fine.”

“I did warn you not to let him touch the NyQuil,” Spy says.

“Yeah, yeah. If it does anything particularly bad it'll be Medic's problem, anyhow.”

“Remind me again why he is not _already_ in charge of their care?”

“Because lord knows I wouldn't want the doc taking care of me if I had a cold,” he answers.

“And?” Spy prompts.

“And I can't let anyone's problems pass me by,” he finishes, rolling his eyes behind the goggles. “Now do something useful for me and take this soup to them.”

“What, in the pot?”

“Put it a bowl first, you moron. One for each of them. And if there's any left give it to Sniper, since he's being a baby about the snow again.”

Once Spy's busied himself with the soup, Engie turns to look out the window. As usual, Pyro and Scout are out there together, currently making snow angels. Heavy and Medic are taking a walk, at least until Medic takes Heavy's complacency as an opening to shove a handful of snow down the back of his coat, and then it turns into a run, Medic's delighted laughter carrying over the grounds.

“Remember to come in if y'all start getting cold,” he calls to Scout and Pyro. They both reach up and give him a thumbs-up instead of answering vocally. He's struck by a memory of doing the same thing to his own mother. “Sniper was right,” he mutters to himself.

* * *

“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” Spy says, shouldering the door to Demo's room open. He and Soldier are currently sharing it in an attempt to make bringing things to them easier, but it mostly means there's no space for anyone else. “I brought you soup.”

“You mean Engie made soup and told you to carry it,” Demo groans, face still buried in his pillow.

“Yes, that is exactly what I mean. Now sit up and eat it.”

“Thanks, private,” Soldier says, taking one of the bowls. Spy nearly jumps; his voice is so scratchy from illness that he sounds like the devil in those terrible horror movies Scout likes to drag them all to.

“Of course,” is what he says instead. “I will return shortly for the bowls; I suggest you eat, because I don't want to have to come back a second time.”

“More like he doesn't want to tell Engie we didn't like his soup,” Demo says, laughing through his stuffed-up nose.

No, he doesn't. There's something about that short, amiable bastard that Spy likes and irrationally wants to protect from the vicissitudes of the world – despite the fact that Engie is more than capable of sensing trouble and building a giant gun to protect himself from it. 

Instead of questioning this bizarre emotion, he just lets Engineer rope him in to playing his assistant in dealing with the rest of the team. He's got plenty of excuses for why he does it: he's attempting to infuse the others with his sense of propriety; he's saving Engie from himself; it gives him a front-row seat to plenty of blackmail opportunities. But he never gives the real answer.

“Just eat,” he says, pointing a gloved finger threateningly at his bed-bound teammates, and leaves.

“They eating?” Engie asks when Spy comes back. He's sitting at the table with Pyro and Scout, Scout still red-cheeked from being outside, Pyro still bound up in scarves and mittens, and all three of them drinking some kind of hot beverage.

“Yes. Is that tea? A cup would not go amiss,” he answers, looking for the kettle.

Engie laughs nervously. “Nah, it's just hot chocolate. You know Scout doesn't drink tea. But I'll make you some, if you want.”

“Scout, you have the palate of a five-year-old, and I intend to cure you of it. And no, I am perfectly capable of making my own tea,” he says, pushing Engineer back into his chair from where he's trying to stand up with a gentle hand on the shoulder. “You do too much for these ruffians.”

“Hey, you're one of us,” Scout says.

“Yes, he does too much for me, too,” Spy says absently, filling the kettle.


	3. Chapter 3

“No, absolutely not,” Spy says, digging in his heels and refusing to move, despite Engineer's best efforts to pull him along. “I will not be involved in this.”

Engie frowns. “You say that every time and you _always_ get involved.”

“Yes, but this is where I draw the line. Frankly, I'm surprised you are willing to do this.”

“Somebody has to! It's affecting all of us.”

“True, but I don't see why it has to be me.”

“I need your moral support,” he says, giving one of his lopsided grins. “It won't be as bad as you're making it out to be, Spy. Just stand around and nod while I talk.”

“Must I?”

“Yep,” Engie says, redoubling his efforts to pull Spy around by the arm. He lets him.

* * *

“Now, y'all are probably wondering why I wanted to talk to you,” Engie starts.

“They know,” says Spy, darkly.

“They might not.”

“Well,” says Medic, interrupting, “the fact that you wanted to talk to myself and Heavy does come with a certain implication.”

“Got it in one, doc,” Engie says.

“And I will have you know that regardless of how uncomfortable it may make you or the rest of the team, we have no intention of breaking off our relationship.”

“Woah, woah, slow down!” Engie says, hands spread. “You're jumping to conclusions, now.”

Medic sits back down, looking a little abashed. “My apologies. Though you may understand why I am so defensive.”

“Yeah. But I think I speak for us all when I say that no one really cares if you two want to, uh,” Engie looks to Spy for an appropriate end to that sentence.

“Fuck,” Spy finishes, casually.

“Spy!”

He just shrugs.

“Anyway, we only wanted to talk to y'all because you're, uh, keeping some of the others up at night, if you follow me.”

“With your fucking,” Spy adds, unnecessarily.

“Why did I even bring you along?” Engie asks, rhetorically.

“I have no idea,” Spy answers. “But yes, if the two of you could keep the volume down at night, it would be much appreciated, _merci_.”

Both Heavy and Medic are bright red. “ _Ja_ , we'll, ah, work on that,” Medic finally says, sounding a bit strangled.

Engie claps them both on the shoulder, only possible because they're sitting down while he stands. “Thanks, partners. That's all we wanted to talk about.”

“You're welcome. Now if you'll excuse me, I must die in a hole from embarrassment.”

“Me too,” Heavy agrees.

“Be quiet while you're in there,” Spy says, following Engie out of the infirmary.

* * *

“God, those conversations are always so awkward,” Engineer says later. He and Spy are in the lab, Engie working, Spy sitting on a table watching. “But everyone kept complaining to me, like I knew how to fix it.”

“Perhaps they just wanted you to soundproof the base.”

Engie laughs. “Maybe. I'm just glad they took it fairly well. The whole thing could have gone up in flames.”

“Much like your shirt if you don't pay more attention,” Spy says, pointing to the torch in Engie's hand, which is, in fact, getting dangerously close to the opposite sleeve.

“Woah, there,” he says to the torch, as if it can hear him. He shuts it off and lays it on a workbench. “Thanks for coming with, by the way. I know you don't like to get involved in everyone else's problems, but I sure appreciate it.”

Spy's mind runs through a dozen excuses: _I thought it would be funny, you needed backup in case they took it badly, they were ruining my sleep as much as anyone else's_ , but in the end he settles for the truth. He's been sitting on it far too long already.

“I'd do anything for you.”

Engie drops the hammer he's holding, turns to Spy, and lifts his goggles. “Spy, I --”

Spy jumps down from his perch and silences him with a hand. “You don't have to solve this problem, _mon ami_. I simply felt it was time you get the thanks you deserve.”

He withdraws his hand.

“Now who said there was a problem here?” he asks, smiling up at Spy.

“ _Hein?_ ”

“You're a damn fool sometimes,” Engie says, still in Spy's personal space. “I like you too.”

“I never said that,” Spy says, stammering a little bit, though he'd never admit it.

“It's what you meant.”

“Well,” he says, “I suppose that's one interpretation.”

“The right one?”

“Potentially.”

Engie gives a small laugh. “Just let me kiss you, all right?”

Spy pauses. “All right.”

There's a kiss. It's fairly short and very tentative, but once it's finished Spy pulls Engie in for something more substantial.

“Does this mean we're going to have to have that conversation with ourselves later?” Engie asks, hands fisted in the lapels of Spy's jacket.

“Let us find out,” he says, grinning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> team parents engie and spy is a wonderful thing
> 
> as always you can hit me up for fic here or on [tumblr](http://gilgameshwulfenbach.tumblr.com).


End file.
